


Hell's Kitchen

by anyrei



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, BAMF!Cas, Canon-Typical Violence, Cas is a vigilante/superhero, Detective AU, M/M, Minor Character Death, Secret Identity, Vigilante, dark!fic, detective!dean, lawyer!Cas, marvel AU, pining!dean, superhero au, switch!cas, switch!dean
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2017-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:52:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 17,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6386290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anyrei/pseuds/anyrei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hell’s Kitchen is the playground of a gruesome serial killer that brings lone wolf Detective, Dean Winchester and the mysterious lawyer, Castiel Novak together. This is only the beginning of two heroes standing at the brink of darkness, the last stand against evil, saving people and giving them hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Day

**Author's Note:**

> There will be **no trigger warnings** for this fic, because I don’t want to spoil anything. If you have problems with this, please don’t read or ask me on my tumblr. (http://anyrei.tumblr.com/) 
> 
> Many thanks to the best beta in the world: drunk_idjit! <3

 

**Chapter 1: First Day**

 

“Do not be afraid; our fate

Cannot be taken from us; it is a gift.”

― Dante Alighieri, Inferno

 

It was so _fucking_ cold that he couldn’t even feel his fingers anymore. 

 

Tonight there were two things Detective Winchester was sure of. One: If he stayed in this rain and freezing wind any longer , his fingers might just fall off ; and two: This crime scene was just compromised by an annoying newbie. 

 

A young police officer had just puked between the reeking dumpsters in this god forsaken backstreet and Dean let out a heavy sigh before stepping up behind him. 

 

“Keep breathing. It’s a habit you don’t wanna break,” he told him in a rough voice as the young man kept retching, bracing himself against the brick wall. 

 

“Sorry, Sir,” the police officer replied with a shaking voice before he helplessly started vomiting again. You would think he would have lost his dinner by now.

 

Dean buried his hands in his pockets, trying to get a bit of life back into his fingers as he approached Lieutenant Gordon Walker, who had been first to the scene once it was called in. He wore a thick leather jacket, his trimmed goatee and close cut black hair, that framed his dark skin, somehow made him look sleeker than ever.

 

He didn’t like Gordon, the guy was a massive prick, but as much as Dean hated to admit it, Walker knew what he was doing and he got the job done. Dean’s eyes surveyed the scattered body parts that littered the ground for the second time that night before he turned his head to face the Lieutenant. 

 

“Just like the last one,” Dean stated the obvious.

 

Gordon huffed, not even looking at him, “Yeah… Fucking Hell’s kitchen! This isn’t humanly possible. It looks like someone ripped his head off with bare hands. I mean, we have to wait for the coroner’s report but fucking look at this mess.”

 

Gordon was right. The whole case had an air of supernatural surrounding it. Since the  _ incident,  _ that was what the New Yorker was calling it these days, no one denied that some freaks of nature existed anymore.

 

“Yeah… Does Mr. Headless… “ Dean contorted his face, “and limbless have a name?”

 

“Frank Devereaux,” Gordon stated as he finally turned around to look at Dean. “He was a neurotic, paranoid blogger, sometimes wrote for the local tabloid. Pain in the ass, if you ask me. Always wondered when this dipshit would get snuffed.”

 

Dean raised his eyebrows and tried to ignore Gordon’s last comment. Not that he didn’t share Gordon’s view on the press (they were basically vultures), but that didn’t mean that the victim lying in bloody pieces in front of him had deserved his fate.

 

He was the second victim in two days they had found in this state. The first one had been a woman, whose identity was still unknown at this point. No suspects, no witnesses, no good leads and already a second death. Their department was working overtime with no results and the pressure from the city and press had been relentless since the beginning. If they didn’t find anything soon, this was going to get ugly.

 

At least now they had a name. Dean hoped this would finally lead to a motive and that both murders weren’t the result of a freak killing spree. 

 

Gordon’s smug grin broke Dean out of his musing and he internally braced himself for the mocking that he already knew was coming. “Heard this is your specialty now – ‘the freak shows’. That you were rescued by one of those wannabe heroes like a “damsel” in distress. What are the tabloids calling him again? Nightangel? What was the title...” Gordon scratched his chin before he slid his hand through the air as if he was reading from an invisible headline, “Nightangel rescues Detective from Hell’s Kitchen fire.”

 

Dean grinned, “Did you cut out the article and glue it into your fanboy album with glitter and tiny stars?”

 

Dean’s phone rang and he held up his finger to interrupt the insult that was already forming on Gordon’s lips. “Hold that thought,” he told the Lieutenant before he answered his call in a gruff voice.

 

“Where the hell are you?” His brother Sam greeted him, his annoyance and impatience seeping through the phone. Dean closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, trying, vainly, to curb the headache he felt forming behind his eyes.

 

“Crime scene. Before you ask – it’s not a lame excuse.” Dean caught Gordon giving him a confused glare before the Lieutenant joined the forensics team to actually do his work.

 

“You work in Hell’s kitchen, you’re always at a crime scene. You won’t get out of your promise. Not this time.”

  
“Yeah, yeah, okay. Tell dad I’ll be there in an hour and do us both a favor and keep him away from the booze.”

 

Sam huffed ,  “Sure, whatever. Just hurry.” 

 

The line went dead after that and Dean rolled his eyes before he joined Gordon who was still talking with a guy from forensics. “So what have you got?”

 

“More freaking strange… Look,” Gordon knelt down next to one of the shredded arms and pointed at the frayed flesh where the arm had been torn off from the rest of the body. 

 

Dean scrunched up his nose: “What’s the yellow stuff? Smells like rotten eggs.”

 

“It’s sulfur,” The young guy from forensics answered in a light tone . “Its largest commercial use is to produce sulfate and phosphate fertilizers , but it’s also used in the production of matches, insecticides , and fungicides.”

 

“Our last victim didn’t have sulfur on her body,” Dean stated, still wondering where the connection was between the first murder and the second. With nothing to go on , it was impossible to link both cases. At the moment their only similarity was how the victims were killed.

 

The forensic guy shrugged , “The woman had been lying in heavy rain for hours before she had been found. All traces would have been washed away , if there had been any.”

 

Dean nodded , “I see, but now that we know what we’re looking for we should recheck her body, maybe we overlooked something. It could be our first good lead. Maybe our killer works in a branch where they work with these kinds of chemicals.” 

 

Gordon scrunched his nose as he looked one last time over the remains of the victim. “Worth a shot. I’ll finish this up. Don’t you have somewhere to be, Winchester?”

 

Dean shot Gordon an annoyed look for eavesdropping on his phone call. Offering to finish this up wasn’t out of the goodness of Gordon’s heart, Dean knew that. It was the first good lead on the case and Gordon was trying to get a head start to look good. Just that, Dean couldn’t care less. He didn’t do the job for fame or recognition. He was in it to help people. 

 

And in this city they really needed help.

 

He sighed as he felt his headache getting worse. At least he’d be able to get out of the rain and he could probably avoid catching a cold if he went home now… Not that he was even allowed to stay there tonight. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you tomorrow, Walker.”

 

Gordon just waved him off, not even looking as Dean made his way back to his car. What a prick! He wondered how much longer he’d have to put up with the teasing that had been going on for the last few weeks since the… fire. Since he got rescued. 

 

He closed his eyes as he slumped behind the steering wheel of his black 1967 Chevy Impala, taking a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart as the memories hit him. 

 

It had been a stupid idea to run into the building. But there were still kids inside and his thoughts shut off as soon as he heard their screams coming from the third floor. He ended up cowering in a corner, paralyzed by a panic attack, helplessly watching as the building was consumed by flames. 

 

Seeing fire did this to him. He hadn’t been able to shake it off since he was four, when he himself had been a little kid and had to watch as the flames took his home and his mother along with it. The night he lost both of his parents, actually. His father was never the same after that. 

 

He thought he would die in that building along with those kids. But at the end of the night nobody died in the fire thanks to one mysterious vigilante who had helped keep the streets safe in Hell’s Kitchen for a few months now. 

 

As a detective and man of the law , Dean usually disapproved of street justice, but he wasn’t naive. Everybody knew that there were dangerous freaks out there and it was a hell of a good thing that there were also some good ones to balance it out.

 

He couldn’t remember much about his rescue though. Just that the guy  – or ‘Nightangel’ as the tabloids named him, was freaking strong. He had gripped Dean’s shoulder so hard when he’d pulled him out that he’d sported the guy’s handprint in the shape of a nasty bruise for over two weeks. 

 

Other witnesses had often described Nightangel as a six foot tall man in a dark hoodie and a black mask that covered his entire face. He got his name when rumors of his dark wings had started to spread and since then , every news reporter or hobby photographer was out in Hell’s Kitchen to get a snapshot of the hero with his wings. Dean thought it was bullshit. A guy running around with wings would kind of attract a lot of attention  – even in this city.

 

A quick look at his watch reminded him that he should be getting back to his apartment to change out of his wet clothes and into something “appropriate,” as Sam called it. He had to attend that charity gala, like he had promised his younger brother a month ago. The last time he had broken that promise because he hated those kinds of social gatherings and was luckily distracted by a murder case – that, okay… technically wasn't his case , but it was still an appropriate excuse to get out of that monkey dance. He might have even gotten away with it if his dad hadn't been the police commissioner for the department Dean worked for. He had threatened to suspend him if he couldn't fulfill his social obligations to his family in the future, leaving Dean with no more excuses to get out of them. 

 

Back at home he threw all of his clothes into the washer before taking a hot shower to warm up again. The weather was nasty this late in November. It had been raining cats and dogs for five days straight and it was slowly getting on Dean’s nerves. Half of his colleagues were home with the flu and he was starting to get that scratchy feeling in his throat too. Great... Although, maybe if he was coming down with something he’d have an excuse to skip tonight’s party. It was a tempting thought , but an image of his dad glaring at him changed Dean’s mind. He wasn't going to risk his father’s wrath as long as he was working such an important case. Maybe if he had to do paperwork, though…

 

Dean grinned as he dried himself, afterwards tossing the towel on a pile of dirty laundry he should have taken care of last week, but still hadn't gotten around to. Yeah, his apartment looked like a bomb went off in there and Dean didn’t like it. He wasn’t usually this messy , but lately he spent more time at the office than he did at home. 

 

Not that anyone was waiting for him here anyway. Dean growled at his own thoughts as he searched his closet for a suit. He didn’t want to think about how lonely he got sometimes… especially at night. It was his own fault, really. He didn’t get out much. Not since he had dated Lisa years ago and it went sideways. It seemed that his job and having a relationship just didn’t work together. He stayed clear of dating since then. 

 

He tied his dark green tie that, Sam’s fiancee, Jessica had bought him last christmas   – apparently it brought his eyes out or whatever. He gave himself a last once-over in the mirror. Yeah, not bad. 

 

Just because Dean didn’t do dates, didn’t mean he wasn’t a flirt with anyone who looked even remotely attractive. To his dad’s discomfort , this even meant the occasional man. Dean wasn’t choosy in that matter. If he found someone that he could have a nice few hours with, he was fine with that. No strings attached, that was how he rolled. He hoped maybe this evening wouldn’t be a complete loss if he could find a nice, hot body to warm him up in this shitty weather.

 

It took about ten more minutes for him to find his umbrella in the mess of his apartment, and he cursed as he checked his watch. He was running really late and Sam and his dad were bound to be pissed at him for it. He was already off to a great start. 

 

It took him another twenty minutes just to get to the hotel where the charity gala was being held. He glared at the valet, growling that he would make his life a living hell if he got so much as a scratch on his baby as he reluctantly handed his keys over to the timid looking guy with the name “Alfie” on his nametag. 

 

“Took you long enough!” His brother greeted him with a frown at the entry hall, phone in his hand as if he was just about to call him again. 

 

Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance , “I’m here now, aren’t I? Nice to see you, too.”

 

Sam gave him his patented bitch face number five and gestured for him to follow as Dean smoothly swiped a glass of whiskey off of a waiter’s tray. He ignored Sam’s raised eyebrow and shrugged, “What? I’m off duty.” 

 

The hall was full of New York’s finest, snobbiest, and richest people and Dean already hated every second of being there. At least it was warm and he got free drinks. They met Jessica and his dad inside, who gave him a quick nod as Sam’s fiancee hugged him cordially. “You look beautiful tonight, Jess. You could do a lot better than my brother, you know that?”  

 

Jessica laughed , “You say that every time, Dean.”

 

“Because it’s still true,” Dean charmingly grinned at her which earned him a punch to his shoulder from his brother.

 

“So how’s the case, son?” John Winchester inquired quietly after he took a sip from his sparkling water. 

 

“Would be going faster if I wasn’t getting distracted with events like this,” Dean quipped with a sarcastic smile. 

 

“Son, you’re not the only cop working on this. They can afford you being away for a few hours. Go around and mingle. Spread your charm. Get a few ladies to donate for the new hospital.”

 

Dean shook his head lightly , “I swear sometimes you sound just like a politician.”

 

John Winchester took in a deep breath , “If you’d been on time you would have heard the speech I was giving earlier. Now you’re probably the last in the whole city to hear the news. I’m running for mayor.”

 

Dean needed a few seconds to process this new information , “What? Why? What the hell, Dad?”

 

“Would you please calm down, son? We’ll talk about this later. Now, I just want you to behave and do something for the family. I hope this isn’t too much to ask.”

 

“Fine,” Dean growled, “But we will talk about this.” 

 

Dean was immediately distracted from his confusion and anger about the surprising turn of events when people started to chat excitedly around him, pointing at the entry. He turned around, noticing a man walking in with windswept, dark brown hair , and a tanned trenchcoat that billowed dramatically over a fancy suit that looked like it was worth more than two of Dean’s paychecks. 

 

_ Hell, _ the guy looked hot… and very, very pissed off. What a way to make an entrance.

 

“Who’s that?” Dean asked Jessica, who always knew everybody that was anybody in this town, but to his surprise his brother answered .

 

“That’s Castiel Novak, the youngest brother of the mayor, Michael Novak, and Luke Novak, my boss. They had a falling out of some kind and he opened up his own law firm in Hell’s Kitchen together with his sister, Anna. He’s kind of a Robin Hood type, very idealistic, so he gets into a lot of trouble.”

 

“Ah,” Dean nodded, “a guy who’s not afraid to get himself dirty. I’m surprised, Sammy. I thought you liked these kind-hearted, do-gooders? But you sound like you don’t like him.”

 

“I don’t know… it’s just… he’s trouble, Dean. Kind of extreme and tactless. He once accused a judge of being the mayor’s little bitch, his exact words, and the mayor is his own brother.”

 

Dean grinned, “I think I like this guy.”

 

Sam rolled his eyes , “Figures…. Uh, oh… seems like he found my boss.”

 

Dean was a big fan of soap operas and dramas, a guilty pleasure – but what he witnessed in the next few minutes was better than a whole marathon of Dr. Sexy M.D. – seriously.

 

Castiel Novak walked up to his older brother like a rolling thunderstorm.  He grabbed the guy by his shirt and yanked him up close only to shout in his face, obviously not giving a flying fuck that he was making a scene in front of the whole crème de la crème of New York’s high society as he accused his brother of being a cold hearted cutthroat who just made over a hundred people homeless in Hell’s Kitchen. Sam’s boss only stared at him coldly as he snapped his fingers and two bodyguards grabbed Castiel, pulling him away from his brother. Dean noticed the angry man’s move before the poor bodyguard on Castiel’s right saw it coming. The guy went down to the floor with a grunt, beautifully accompanied by the shrieks of a few ladies who hopped away from the fight. The bodyguard to Castiel’s left went down only a second later.

 

To say that Dean was impressed with the guy was an understatement. He didn’t seemed overly muscular but he was agile and knew what he was doing. Castiel brushed the wrinkles from his coat before he glared at his brother. “I won’t let this rest, brother. This will have consequences.”

 

He whirled around and stomped off, his coat waving around his frame like a cape, and Dean wondered if the guy had chosen that particular piece of clothing for exactly that reason. He was intrigued by Castiel Novak and wanted to know more about the guy , so he excused himself from his brother and Jessica, ignoring his dad’s question of where he thought he was going. Apparently, he was following this guy out of the hall, willingly taking the chance to piss off his dad. 

 

He didn’t need to go far. He spotted Castiel sitting down at the hotel bar, ordering a beer.

 

“Mind if I join you?” Dean asked with his most charming smile. Castiel turned around with a  surprised look and  _ wow _ … up close the color of his eyes were even more stunning than from afar. 

 

The man blinked at him... twice, opened his mouth just to close it again before he slowly asked , “Press?”

 

“Um, no. Police, actually, but off duty. Detective Dean Winchester.” He offered his hand for Castiel to shake, who was still kind of stunned for whatever reasons. 

 

Before he could retract his hand, Castiel hastily grabbed it awkwardly in both of his hands. “Castiel. Castiel Novak. I’m a lawyer.”

 

Dean smiled at him openly and pointedly looked at the free chair next to Castiel. 

 

The guy actually looked shy as he let his hand go and nodded , “I don’t mind, please.”

 

If Dean wasn’t interpreting the signs horribly wrong (and he knew he wasn’t, he was an excellent detective) then he just won the jackpot tonight. So Dean’s new plan for this evening, besides pissing his dad off because of this whole surprise-I’m-going-to-be-mayor shit show, was having a lot of fun with this smoking hot man, whose lips just begged to be kissed.

 

“You were the detective who solved that corruption case against the old mayor’s office, right?”

 

Dean raised an eyebrow , “You heard about that?”

 

Castiel nodded, somberly , “From my brother Michael. He was his successor… I thought you did a fine job there.”

 

“Um, thank you,” Dean grinned before he took a sip from his whiskey. 

 

Castiel stared at him for a moment before his eyes widened: “You were in the burning house a few weeks ago!”

 

_ Oh shit… _ as if he hadn’t heard enough mockery about this spectacular failure.  “Uh, yeah…” he answered slowly, turning his glass in his hand, watching how the light from the ceiling broke in the amber liquid.

 

“You’re a real hero, you know that? Running into that building. I don’t believe many people would have done it.” There was no mockery in Castiel’s voice, his words were sincere and warm. 

 

Dean huffed as he took a large gulp from his glass , “I think you heard wrong then. I was rescued by Hell’s Kitchen’s own superhero  –  Nightangel. He’s the real hero of that night. Rescued all the kids and myself.“

 

Castiel gave him a thoughtful look and shook his head lightly. “I’ve heard Nightangel has some kind of superpowers or something, so he probably wouldn’t even get hurt if he were to run into a burning building. You would, but you did it anyway. It’s just my humble opinion, but I think that makes you the greater hero.” 

 

Dean smiled at the man, who mirrored it instantly and  _ wow…  _ with just a smile and some kind words, Castiel managed to make him feel much better. “Thank you, man. I really appreciate that… Actually, I think you really made my day.”

 

Castiel laughed at that , “Well, then at least I did something good today.”

 

“Cas… Um... mind if I call you Cas? I know, I have this bad habit of shortening everybody’s name.”

 

Cas grinned at him , “I don’t mind... As long as it isn’t ‘Cassie’… One of my brothers calls me that and it’s annoying.”

 

“They seem to do that a lot. Annoy you, I mean,” Dean stated carefully while he watched Castiel’s expression. 

 

When he mentioned his brothers, Cas’s eyes suddenly turned sad, even a bit angry. “Yes, sorry about that earlier. I know, how much Luke hates it when I make a scene in public , so I just had to do that. He just makes me so angry sometimes. Michael  – the mayor,  is kind of the same. I guess he’s a bit more righteous , but also very cold hearted. I only get along with my brother Gabriel. He’s kind of cool, actually. He annoys me too, but in a totally normal, brotherly kind of way. He lives in California though , so I don’t see him very often.”

 

“You have a big family then?” Dean asked, leaning a bit closer to the other man.

 

Cas’s eyes looked like he was far away in his mind, like he was remembering a happier time. “Yes, I also have an older sister. She works with me at my law firm down in Hell’s Kitchen. We always were inseparable…I.. um.. I’m sorry, I don’t want to bore you with my life story. What about you?”

 

“You don’t bore me. Quite the opposite. You’re saving me from a lame night where my dad expects me to talk to snobbish, rich people to get them to donate to the new hospital. Which wouldn’t have bothered me, because, you know, good cause and all but apparently it’s all for his image, campaigning to become the new mayor. And guess what? I was the last one he told that he was running for office. He even withdrew me from a crime scene for this shit. I still can’t believe it… um, sorry… I think I just needed to get that off my chest.”

 

“Seems we both didn’t have the best night.”

 

Dean’s grinned widened , “How about we change that… what do you think? You and me? We go to a bar somewhere, get shit-faced drunk, have some fun?” Dean winked at him for that last part, hoping he caught on to the double meaning. 

  
Apparently he did because he blushed like an adorable virgin and rubbed his neck before he gave Dean a shy smile , “That’s a beautiful idea. Let’s do this.”


	2. Second Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all a massive sorry for taking so long on this story. Since I'm currently working on a lot of other projects it probably won't go any faster in the future, but I try my best. A big thank you to [mugglerock](http://archiveofourown.org/users/mugglerock/pseuds/mugglerock) for beta reading this!

 

 

“But the fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and murderers, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and idolaters, and all liars, shall have their part in the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone: which is the second death.”

― Revelation 21:8

 

It had been a long time – years even, since he’d had so much fun. It turned out that Cas wasn't just an attractive man, he was also intelligent, altruistic and, after two beers, his shyness slowly subsided to reveal a sarcastic, dry humored, trouble maker who was also a blatant flirt. Cas had told him the backstory about his fight with his brother, that he thought Luke had sold his soul to the devil, working for all the big corporations in Hell’s Kitchen that tried to discriminate against and disenfranchise the poor and helpless.

 

“Do you always have so many problems with your brothers?”

 

“Problems are just opportunities that haven't presented themselves,” Cas replied thoughtfully and Dean was painfully aware of how his face portrayed, very openly, how much he liked this guy. He knew they had just met like two hours ago , but it already felt like they had known each other for a lifetime. At the same time Dean had the strong urge to learn everything about Castiel. 

 

Although Cas had been pretty open with him, answering every one of Dean’s questions, there was still this… it was hard to describe… like an aura of mystery surrounding the other man. It sounded like a line from a shabby clairvoyant , but Dean just knew there was something about Cas… he couldn’t quite put his finger on it… maybe it was just a gut feeling, a kind of sixth sense. It was part of what made him into a good detective, over the years he’d learned to listen to it. 

 

But foremost there was one thing Dean was sure of in the short time since he had met Cas. He wanted to get to know him better. So, the one night stand with the usual sayonara and goodbye he had in mind when he first laid eyes on the attractive man, was off the table. He had a feeling that he and Cas could become friends. If that involved casual sex at some point – well, let’s just say Dean wasn’t opposed to the idea, but he didn’t want to complicate things. 

 

“Speaking of opportunities, what do you usually do with your nights when you’re not busy crashing snobby parties?”

 

Cas’s nose crinkled as he gave Dean an amused, crooked smirk , “Nothing much, mostly staying at home, watching Netflix.”

 

Dean smirked , “Yeah, I call bullshit on that. You don’t look like you’re the sitting down type. Your body and the way you fight speak a very clear language.”

 

“Oh , and what language does my body speak? I hope it tells you what I would like to do tonight?”

 

Dean’s grin widened at this prospect , “Are you trying to distract me? Because you’re doing a good job.”

 

“Not good enough if you’re noticing it,” Cas’s fingers lightly touched Dean’s hand on the counter.

 

Dean rubbed his thumb over the other man’s hand , “You forget you’re speaking to a detective. And even though I really like the distraction, I know that there’s something more to your story. Am I right?”  

 

“Maybe…” Cas smirked. “If you’re a good detective maybe you can somehow convince me to talk…”

 

Dean licked his lips, noticing how Cas’s eyes tracked the movement of his tongue. He gave him his most charming smile , “I can be very convincing when I want to be.” He let his fingers slide from Cas’s hand to his wrist, rubbing gently over the sensitive skin at his pulse point, relishing in the fact that it was elevated. 

 

Cas mirrored his smile, “I believe you… Since you’re already aware that I can get myself into all sorts of trouble, and I’m a thorn in the side of both of my brothers, you can imagine that I lead a somewhat solitary life. I often face dangerous threats, sometimes I even get attacked in my own home by thugs…”

 

Dean’s resolution not to complicate things with Cas was off the table as soon as Cas gave him an inviting look with his last insinuation. He was going to complicate the fuck out of this man. “Mmhhh, we can’t have that. You know, since I stand for the safety of everyone in this city , I would gladly escort you to your home. I could also check your apartment… for security measures.” 

 

Cas’s grin broadened , “That’s very thoughtful of you. You should be very thorough.” 

 

Dean let out a deep breath , “I will. Let’s go, come on. The faster you get to safety, the better.”

 

They left the bar in a hurry, getting cozy under Dean’s umbrella when they ran out to the street into the pouring rain. Dean felt too drunk to drive, so Cas hailed a cab and, luckily, the first one actually stopped for them. Dean knew it was due to the area and the fact that they weren't drenched like stray dogs. Down in Hell’s Kitchen it was a bit more difficult to get a cab, so he wasn’t all that surprised when the taxi driver frowned at the address Cas gave him. 

 

Apparently, Cas lived where he worked, right in the middle of it. Dean didn’t mind. He knew the area like the back of his hand. Even though he lived on the Upper West Side, his work had always been in Hell’s Kitchen. And he liked the neighborhood. The people were friendly and down to Earth; it was just the criminals that were a pain in the ass. So close to the harbor, a lot of organized crime used the route to conduct their business and… Cas’s fingers softly rubbed against his palm and Dean's thoughts raced back to the here and now… and the prospect of a wonderful night with an incredible man. Dean grinned as he paid the driver and they hastily crawled their way out of the car. 

 

The detective followed the lawyer to a red bricked four story building next to an auto repair shop. They took the elevator to the top floor and Cas pulled him eagerly to his front door, rummaging through his coat pocket for the key. Dean noticed it was the only door on the floor and it had a sign with embossed lettering, “Novak & Milton – Attorneys at Law” on the frosted glass. 

 

“I thought you lived here,” Dean protested as Cas finally managed to open the door. 

 

“I do, this is just the front,” Cas explained calmly and pulled him through the office by his jacket sleeve. They came to another door that led them into a very open spaced apartment and what seemed to be Cas’s living room. It had large windows and a neon advertisement from the neighboring building shone into the room, flickering with red’s and green’s and blue’s, illuminating the red brick walls in bright lights. 

 

The room was sparsely furnished – atop a dark red, fuzzy carpet sat a black leather couch and a small wooden coffee table. Behind it, a small staircase led to a higher leveled open kitchenette with doors that led to different rooms inside of the apartment. Dean noticed a punching bag hanging close by the windows and some other training equipment that explained how Cas kept himself in such excellent shape.

 

Not that he got around to seeing the rest of Cas’s apartment, because the lawyer instantly tackled him against the wall and pinned Dean’s hands above his head. There was a short moment where Cas hesitated, his lips hovering close over Dean’s lips, their quick breathing mingling in between them before he kissed him – way more tender than Dean had expected after the sudden assault. 

 

Dean felt his knees turn to jelly when Cas pushed his tongue into his mouth, exploring and tasting him tenderly, but determined.… _ God _ … Cas was a good kisser. Dean already knew he wanted to do this again.

 

The lawyer loosened his grip around Dean’s wrist and slowly dragged his strong hands down Dean’s arms to his shirt, opening it with dexterous fingers before he pushed it from his shoulders. Cas’s own white dress shirt quickly followed Dean’s to the floor. Dean let his fingers slide over Cas’s chest, enjoying the view of his well-muscled body that was perfectly illuminated by the colorful neon lights from outside of the window. That was the moment he noticed Cas’s tattoo. He let his fingers slide over the strange symbols that were inked under the man’s ribcage with a soft touch. 

 

Cas smiled at him , “Leftover from my time in the military, like the one on my back. What’s yours?” Cas circled his fingers around Dean’s tattoo on his chest with a questioning look. 

 

“Peccadillo. My brother has the same one. Can I see the one on your back?” If Dean had thought Cas couldn't get any hotter, he was clearly mistaken learning that the guy was also ex-military. ‘Cause uniforms…  _ hell _ , that had always been his weakness. 

 

Cas turned around and Dean felt his jaw drop. Cas had huge, beautiful wings tattooed on his back. The tips of the feathers even reached over the back of his arms. Dean let his fingers slide over them, admiring the incredible detail the tattoo artist had invested in this artistic work. “That’s incredible, man…” Dean mumbled before he kissed Cas on his neck.

 

_ Time to turn the tables. _ Dean gripped Cas’s hips and turned them around, pushing the lawyer against the wall as he deepened their kiss, sliding his hands over Cas’s sensitive sides and his thumbs over his nipples. Cas groaned and the noise went directly to Dean’s cock. He bit the other man’s lower lip and licked over it to soothe it again, when Cas unbuckled Dean’s belt. He palmed Dean’s erection over the fabric and Dean knew he had to get naked – like yesterday. 

 

Cas seemed to share that sentiment because he walked him towards the couch, while opening his own suit pants and stepping on the backs of his shoes to pull them off unceremoniously. He shoved Dean onto the couch, helping him quickly remove his shoes and pants as Dean leaned back against the armrest. They were just in their boxers when Cas slid between Dean’s legs, returning his attention to Dean’s lips, licking and biting them. Cas trailed his hands down Dean’s sides, leaning up to nibble softly along Dean’s throat and down his chest. Dean couldn’t suppress his moans at the sensation of Cas’s soft bites and the way he was giving each nipple the extra attention of a quick tongue flicking, before he made his way down to kiss his stomach. 

 

Dean liked where this was going. He buried his fingers in the soft strands of Cas’s dark hair as the lawyer pulled down Dean’s boxershorts, freeing his already leaking erection. Cas slid lower on the couch, letting out a deep, gravelly growl when he noticed the couch was too small. “Couch was a bad idea… I think you should also inspect my bedroom, Detective.”

 

As much as Dean hated the idea of getting up, the thought of having space and being able to roll around on a bed sounded tempting. He wasn’t twenty anymore and he wanted more from this night with Cas than just a quick hump on the next best horizontal surface. Dean grinned and let himself be pulled away from the couch, “That’s a good idea. But I don’t think you’ll need this in there,” Dean murmured as he pulled down Cas’s boxershorts. 

 

They were both naked and for a moment they just lost themselves in the heat of the moment, kissing and groping everywhere they could reach, instead of making their way to the bedroom. Cas growled impatiently before he pulled Dean through one of the doors. His bedroom was dark and only sparsely lit from the streetlights outside, but Dean could make out a large bed.

 

Somehow Dean was sure they would need all of the space they could get because, since they’d started kissing, it felt like a fight for dominance between them. Dean had a hard time figuring Cas out. At times his touches were soft and gentle, but then it was like he was losing control and he got rougher, gripping him so tight he almost left bruises. It almost felt like there were two different personalities battling inside of the lawyer. Not that Dean minded getting a bit rough – on the contrary – it was just one more thing on a growing list of facts that made Cas very intriguing. 

 

Cas had rolled onto Dean when they finally fell down onto the soft dark satin sheets, and kissed his way back down Dean’s body like he had done on the couch before, obviously determined to finish what he had started.

 

When Cas wrapped his beautiful lips around Dean’s cock, he couldn’t stifle a deep moan. _ Fuck _ , the man knew what he was doing with his tongue. It was embarrassing how fast Cas reduced him to a shivering mess, begging for more. 

 

Cas let go of him with a smug grin before he reached for his drawer, grabbing a condom and some Astroglide. Dean snatched the lube from his hand, which earned him a surprised look that only intensified when Dean rolled them around on the bed to kneel over Cas. He opened the bottle and coated two fingers generously before he slid them between his own legs, fingering his hole with a moan. 

 

Cas licked his lips, watching Dean opening himself up with lust blown eyes, “I could do that for you, if you want.”

 

Dean enjoyed the husky tone in Cas’s voice, he could see how much watching Dean preparing himself was affecting the lawyer. “I’m sure you could, but I want you to watch.”

 

Truth was that Dean was already close thanks to Cas’s amazing skill at giving head. He suspected that Cas would also know how to give an awesome prostate massage. Since he didn’t want to embarrass himself with coming too soon, he prefered to take opening himself up in his own hands.

 

Cas skimmed his fingers over Dean’s chest and nipples, before he caught the right one between his thumb and index finger, pressing them together hard. Dean gasped when the pain mixed with his lust and went directly to his throbbing cock.

 

“I can’t wait to be inside you.”

 

Dean smirked at the lawyer, “You are full of surprises…”

 

Cas caressed his chest, a sudden shyness in his voice that surprised Dean, “I hope that's a good thing.”

 

“Very,” Dean breathed out when he believed he had prepared himself enough for Cas’s thick cock.

 

He opened the wrapper of the condom and rolled it over Cas’s hard, velvety erection, eliciting beautiful moans from the lawyer's mouth. He spread a bit more Astroglide on it, although the condom was already slick, before he slowly lowered himself onto Cas’s length.

 

Fuck, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had felt so full. He really hoped they would do this again.

 

Cas groaned and stilled Dean’s slow, rocking motion with a tight grip,”Give me a moment. Dean. You’re so tight.”

 

Dean smiled down at Cas, running his fingers through his messed up hair. He was glad he wasn’t the only one already on the verge of coming. He bent over to kiss the lawyer’s beautiful, inviting mouth, teasing his upper lip with his teeth, “Just tell me when you're ready.”

 

Cas let his hands wander over Dean’s chest, his fingers caressing his skin with tender touches, “You’re very attractive.”

 

Dean grinned, feeling slightly awkward by the compliment. He was used to people being attracted to his looks, but he always had problems accepting compliments, “Thanks, you too.”

 

He kissed Cas again, a deeper and more intimate kiss this time. He groaned into the lawyer’s mouth when Cas gripped his hips tight and started to slowly fuck up into him. It felt incredible. He wanted to feel that way the whole night, but he knew he was already super close.

 

Cas pulled him forward a little, now striking his prostate with every thrust and Dean nearly lost it. Dean pushed his toes into the mattress and increased the pace, taking over control as he started to fuck himself on Cas’s cock.

 

He watched Cas bite his lower lip to stifle a groan before the lawyer suddenly turned them around on the bed, grabbing Dean’s ankles to spread his legs wider when he pushed him down on the bed. 

 

Dean had lost all the control in this position and he loved it. Cas apparently had enough of the slow pace he had started with and was fucking him harder now, hitting the right place with every thrust. One of his hands had left its place around Dean’s ankle in favor of touching Dean’s erection. 

 

Dean gasped when Cas started to stroke his cock, his fingers spreading the precum over the head to make it more slick. “Fuck, Cas.”

 

Cas leaned down, licking into Dean’s mouth with a low moan before he rested his forehead on Dean’s. His voice was just above a whisper and he sounded breathy, “I’m so close… Dean…”

 

Dean moaned and kissed him, nodding against his lips, “I'm right behind you.” 

 

He was sure he was just seconds away from coming. Cas fucked him fast and hard, while stroking over Dean’s cock at the same pace. 

 

He couldn’t say who came first, maybe it was at the same time. The orgasm hit him so hard he nearly blacked out.

 

He registered that Cas was tenderly cleaning up his stomach and chest with something wet, that he softly toweled dry afterwards. He also registered when he laid his head on Dean’s shoulder, leaving soft kisses on his throat. 

 

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas and pulled him closer. He loved cuddling, especially when the other one was initiating it.

 

Dean kissed the top of Cas's head, “Goodnight, sexgod.”

 

Cas chuckled lowly and squeezed him closer for a moment,”Good night, Dean.”

 

**…. :::: :::: ….**

 

“Coffee?” A soft, gravelly voice asked as Dean slowly regained his consciousness. For a moment he was confused , but his mind was quickly flooded with the memories of the perfect night before. Dean smiled before he slowly opened his eyes, greeted by a sight he definitely wouldn’t mind seeing more often in the near future. 

 

Cas was sitting on the edge of the bed next to him, wearing boxers and a loose shirt, holding a steaming cup of coffee. To Dean’s surprise he was also wearing glasses with thick black frames. He looked like a nerdy college professor – just when Dean had thought the guy couldn’t get any hotter… Dean grinned and took the coffee, “Thanks, what time is it?”

 

“Six-ish. Sorry for waking you up so early , but I have to be at court in about an hour,” Cas murmured, still watching him with a faint smile. 

 

“That’s okay, man. I have to go to work, too. Thanks for waking me up,” Dean was reacting on instinct as he reached up to pull Cas closer, dragging his mouth softly over the other man’s lips. “Do we have time for a quick shower together?”

 

Cas grinned , “If we’re very quick... I can give you a ride home after, since you left your car at the hotel.” 

 

“Thanks,” Dean drank the rest of his coffee in one go before he tenderly took Cas’s glasses off of his nose and laid them on the night table next to his empty coffee mug. Then he grabbed the hem of Cas’s shirt and pulled it over his head. Cas chuckled and stood up to remove his boxershorts, pulling Dean up from the bed and in the direction of his bathroom.

 

The shower was big enough for both of them and the water pressure was awesome , despite Cas living in such an old building. Dean enjoyed every moment of covering the other man in body wash, stroking over his muscles, the outlines of his tattoos before he let his hand fall on his already hard erection.  _ Time to return the favor _ , Dean thought before he sank to his knees in front of the man and took him in his mouth.

 

It had been a while since he had given someone a blowjob, but it was like riding a bike. The best part were the noises Cas made, the deep rumbling moans and gasps. Dean hummed around the velvety head, licking up the precum with an eager tongue, as he felt Cas burying his fingers in his hair, pulling him lightly so Dean would take him in deeper.

 

Dean always had a weakness for dominant lovers, Cas was perfect in so many ways. He hoped they would repeat their night. 

 

Dean touched his own erection, stroking it in time with the pace he had set with his mouth.

 

“Dean… so good… such pretty lips,” Cas cradled Dean’s face, rubbing his thumb over his cheek as he gazed down to Dean with hooded blue eyes. Cas threw his head back, moaning with abandon. When Cas looked down, pupils lust-blown, a look of irretrievable awe that sent a chill to course down Dean's spine. Seeing Cas like that nearly pushed him over the edge. He was weirdly proud of himself to be the reason for the look. 

 

He closed his eyes and sucked at the head, swirling his tongue around and enjoying the deep and loud moans of the man in front of him. 

 

“Dean…” Cas tried to warn him, pulling slightly at his hair, “I’m close.”

 

Dean licked at the underside of Cas’s cock and grinned up at him, “It’s okay.”

 

Cas gasped as Dean closed his lips around him again, “Oh, fuck…” His fingers tightened the grip on Dean’s hair, pulling him closer for a moment before he shot his release into Dean’s mouth. Dean’s own orgasm hit him when he tasted Cas’s come on his tongue. 

 

The next thing he was aware of was Cas pulling him up, his knees hurt from kneeling for so long.  _ Fuck _ , he was getting old. Cas pulled him into a dirty, open mouthed kiss, moaning against his lips.

 

They gave each other a happy smile after that, trading a few kisses before they quickly toweled each other dry playfully and got dressed.

 

“So… this was nice…” Dean started awkwardly, “... we should do it again. What do you think?”

 

Cas bit his lower lip, a guilty expression flitted over his face , “Dean… I don’t date… ever.”

 

For a moment Dean was shocked into silence. It wasn’t that the detective had wanted to ask Cas out on a date but… maybe deep in his heart he , at least , hoped they were on the same page with this. He thought they had really hit it off. Hearing Cas’s rejection felt like a stab in his heart. It was like he was saying, ‘Yeah, thanks for the fuck, but that’s it’. He had thought they had some real chemistry going on and obviously he had been seriously mistaken.

 

“I have a tendency to piss people off with my work and I don’t want to drag anyone into this. I can't risk someone close to me getting hurt by my life choices. So, I don't date and I try not to get attached to people. I apologize if I hurt you. That wasn’t my intention. I thought you and I shared the same policy of no strings attached.”

 

“Yeah, yeah, man, sure…” Dean murmured before he told himself to keep it together , “And no, you read that right. Cas, I understand, really I do. As a detective I’m in the same situation. But I think it would be a shame to let everything go, you know? We could still maybe talk sometimes? No strings attached.” Dean raised an eyebrow at Cas, hoping he would take the offer. He would be an idiot if he let Cas just disappear from his life.

 

“Talk sometimes?” Cas smirked.  _ That smarmy bastard. _

 

Dean stepped in front of him and pulled Cas close by the collar of his white dress shirt. He nibbled his earlobe, eliciting a gasp from the lawyer's lips. “Yeah, like this.”

 

Cas hummed and pulled Dean’s cell phone out of his front pocket, immediately typing something in it. “Now you have my number,” Cas quietly stated as he gave Dean back his phone. Dean wondered if the man already regretted his choice , but he couldn’t let himself feel bad about it. 

 

Cas fetched his suit jacket and bag and motioned to the door. “Where do you live?” Cas asked as they took the elevator to the garage. 

 

“306 West seventy-third street, but you can drop me off at the hotel, so I can get my car.”

 

Cas nodded and Dean quietly followed him to his car. He really hoped things wouldn’t get awkward between them, but all of his concerns came to a screeching halt as he spotted Cas’s car. 

 

_ Because, son of a bitch! _

 

He didn’t know what kind of a car he was expecting, but it definitely wasn’t a black BMW i8.

 

“Wow, Cas. This car is worth more than your apartment…”

 

Cas shot him a nostalgic smile. “I stole it from my brother Luke.”

 

Dean stared at him for a moment , “Cas, shit,” he couldn’t help but chuckle, “you can’t tell me shit like that! Police, remember?”

 

“Don’t worry, it’s officially mine now,” Cas answered, still smiling as he unlocked the car and they opened the scissor doors. 

 

Dean let his hands slide over the smooth leather as he sat down in the passenger seat. The interior looked like a space shuttle. He wondered if this car had a flux capacitor. “So, what’s the story?”

 

Cas turned away for a moment and started the car with a button, causing the interior to light up with blue lights. Dean was surprised to hear no sound from the engine. Dean had his own opinion about hybrids. If you couldn’t feel the vibration of the engine flowing through your body or couldn’t hear the car’s content purring, driving down the highway – a car simply lacked personality. And Cas’s car felt more like sitting in a spaceship than anything else.

 

Dean watched Cas opening the garage door with a remote, a fleeting sad expression crossed his handsome face for a few seconds before he told Dean the story about the car. “I was very sick when I came back from the war. My brother Luke insisted I stay with him.”

 

Dean crinkled his forehead, wondering about the sickness Cas had mentioned, but he didn’t want to pry , “That’s… um… nice?”

 

Cas made a sarcastic noise , “Yes, I thought so, too... At the beginning. One night I overheard Luke and Michael fighting over me. You have to understand, Luke and Michael have a very complicated love/hate relationship. Michael wanted me to stay with him for he thought he was better suited with keeping tabs on me. They argued about me like I wasn’t even a person or their brother. It sounded like they were arguing over some possession. When they started to have a dick-measuring contest a.k.a. ‘who has the better security,’ I’d had enough. So I stole one of Luke’s new cars just to spite him.” 

 

Cas tapped the gearshift and the display turned red, forcing Dean to take everything back about hybrid cars as he heard the engine roar for the first time. Cas winked at Dean as he drove his “spaceship” out of the garage and into New York’s morning traffic. 

 

It was still raining cats and dogs. Cas shot him a quick smile , “The next morning I told Luke that I had successfully removed one of his cars and pointed out the flaws in his security system. Luke suggested I could keep the car if I wouldn’t mention it to Michael. Since I don’t have any interest in their little dispute , I kept the car.”

 

Dean chuckled , “Unbelievable.”

 

**…. :::: :::: ….**

 

Dean quickly changed into fresh clothes in his apartment before he checked the unread messages on his phone on his way back to his car. He had some text messages from Sam and his father asking where he had gone in the full spectrum of colorful phrases. 

 

Well, he just had to avoid his old man today and it would probably be fine. So instead of driving to the precinct, he drove directly to the Morgue, hoping that they had some answers on their Jane Doe. He bought two coffee s  at the shop around the corner, one black and one… well it was more sugar and milk with a homeopathic dose of coffee for his friend Charlie. He didn’t really get why she still called it coffee....

 

“Tell me you’ve got something,” Dean greeted Doctor Charlie Bradbury as he handed over the “coffee” before she even could say hello. 

 

She smiled brightly at him , “I’ve got something.”

 

Dean grinned and patted her shoulder , “This is why I love you, Red. Always good news with you.” 

 

“Flattery and coffee. You’re on a roll, Dean,” she said in a cheerful voice and beckoned him to follow her to her computer. 

 

“Always am, Charlie.”

 

She gave him a once over with a raised eyebrow , “You had sex!”

 

Dean gave her an exaggerated, disbelieving look , “How the hell can you possibly know that? Every time!”

 

Charlie just shrugged , “It’s a gift.”

 

“Or a curse?” Dean supplied dryly.

 

“No, no, definitely a gift. So how was she or… he?”

 

“I’ll tell you what. You give me your news on the case and I’ll give you the juicy details.”

 

“You have a deal, mister,” Charlie opened a file and some diagrams that reminded Dean of his chemistry class in highschool. “So,  Lt. Ass–  Walker...  um, called last night, saying that they found traces of sulfur on the new vic. Said we should give Jane Doe another sweep.”

 

Dean gave Charlie a contemplating look, “Did you sleep at all?”

 

“Psh, sleeping is for people with a life, Dean,” she murmured and pointed at the screen to get back on topic. So, she still wasn’t over her breakup with Gilda Dean guessed, and he vowed to himself to take Charlie out on a bender someday this week. “Good news is, I found traces of sulfur, but that’s not all.” She showed him a picture of something that looked like a complicated chemical formula, a net made out of lines and letters. “I also found this.”

 

Dean gave her an uncomprehending look and Charlie grinned , “Yeah, I had the exact same look on my face when I found that.”

 

“So, what is it?”

 

“I have no idea. It looks like an engineered drug, but it doesn’t make any sense. We have traces of tryptamine, fentanyl, 4-Fluoroamphetamine, and 5-Bromouracil in it.”

 

“And in English that means?”

 

“It looks like a combination of different drugs that also affects the DNA. So, I tested our Jane Doe and found something…” she opened another picture, which Dean recognized as gene sequences, “I have never seen so many genetic defects in one place, Dean. That’s not normal. Whatever was in that chemical she was exposed to, destroyed her DNA. Even without the physical injuries that caused her death, she would have died of cancer sooner or later.”

 

“Okay… what about our new victim. Um… Mr. Deveraux?”

 

“I don’t know, yet. I’m working on the analysis at the moment. I will probably know in a few hours and I could give you a call.”

 

Dean nodded, thoughtfully , “How does the sulfur fit into this?”

 

“I can’t say. It has nothing to do with the drug though. I found traces of sulfur under one of her fingernails and her clothes. Maybe she was in a place where sulfur is manufactured.”

 

“Could you make me a list of all the places where sulfur is needed?”

 

“I already compiled a list. I was just about to send it to you when you got here,” Charlie grinned, looking very proud of herself. 

 

“And that’s why you’re the best forensic specialist in the world, Red.”

 

“I know, Dean. I gave you everything I had and we had a deal. So spill!”

 

Dean sighed in defeat, “He… oh yes  _ ‘he’ _ , crashed the lame ass party my dad had forced me to go to and saved me from a boring night of hand shaking and fake smiles with the best sex I’ve had in… ever… I think.” The last part was just an accidental reveal that Dean hadn’t planned to tell Charlie and he was just as surprised as Charlie that he had said that.

 

“Wow, sounds like you found something good… Will you see him again?”

 

“I got his number and I certainly hope so.”

 

**…. :::: :::: ….**

 

Dean successfully avoided his father at the precinct the whole day. Every time his old man came into the office, Dean had managed to sneak out. Walker had told him that the police commissioner wanted to see him, using John Winchester’s title deliberately so it didn’t sound like he had a choice in that matter. But Dean had no intention of speaking to his father today. He was still in a good mood from last night and he already knew his father’s speech about responsibility and family obligation , blah blah blah.

 

Not today. 

 

He had better things to do. And a lot of it he realized when he got the promised list from Charlie. It was over fifty pages with just addresses of companies that used or produced sulfur in any form. He had to somehow narrow down the search. 

 

Frank Devereaux’s life was the first good lead he had on this case. It was time he’d paid a visit to the victim’s apartment to find out what the man had been up to. Walker was already doing a background check on the guy, but Dean was sure he could find more useful information at the place he had lived.

 

He got the address from one of his Sergeants and packed his stuff, mindfully sneaking past Walker’s desk when he wasn’t paying attention. Walker wasn’t his partner, but there was an unspoken rule, even for Detectives, that they shouldn’t go alone on a case. This rule made sense and usually Dean would stick to it, but not tonight. Tonight he just wanted to be left alone, he just didn’t want to hear any snarky or bitchy comments from his colleague. 

 

Frank lived in Hell’s Kitchen, not far from the place they had found his body. The door was sealed with police tape from the forensic team that had already been there when he arrived at the place – an old ten story brick building that had seen better days. Frank lived at the top floor and his one-room apartment... calling it a mess was probably a very kind way to describe it. 

 

The guy must have been a total nutjob. Dean carefully navigated through the maze of scattered boxes, papers, and books that littered the floor as he looked around. The front door was covered in padlocks and was reinforced with iron and steel bolts. Frank must have been a very frightened or paranoid man to rig his door like that. In ascertainment of the fact that he was killed , Dean thought his first assumption was more likely. 

 

Walker had told him that Devereux had been a “journalist” and the walls of his apartment certainly underlined a lifetime of research, because they were covered with articles, photos, and notes. The detective hoped his notes could give him a clue to what the man was doing before he was killed. It was highly probable that he had worked on a story and got himself mixed up with the wrong people.

 

_ And Bingo!  _ One wall was plastered with printouts of chemical compounds. Ones that looked a lot like the image Charlie had shown him earlier. Dean walked up to the wall and pulled his phone out of his jacket to take some photos. He felt the adrenaline pumping through his veins, knowing that this was their first big breakthrough in this case. 

 

When he was finished taking photos, he searched Deveraux’s desk drawers. He found a lot of files, all labeled with incident reports over the last few years that Dean knew from the newspapers or other cases his colleagues had been working on. One of the files caught his attention because it hadn’t been labeled with a date. It had the word “Leviathan Project” written on it in thick, black letters. The file contained a ledger with numbers and dates that didn’t make much sense, but it also contained a page about the mysterious chemical component Charlie had found. Without thinking about it, he packed the ledger into his backpack and started skimming through the other files. It seemed that Deveraux had tried to find a connection with all of the recent fires that had been happening in New York.

 

Dean gasped in surprise when he found a newspaper article about the night he was rescued by Nightangel. The name Nightangel was circled with red ink, the word “connected?” was scribbled next to it. Dean frowned, wondering how Nightangel could have been connected to the fire. He had been lucky the mysterious guy had been there that night.

 

Dean chewed his lower lip. What if it hadn’t been a coincidence? What if Nightangel had something to do with the fire? How much could you really trust a vigilante running around in a mask, saving people? Maybe the guy was a total nutjob who set the fire in the first place just to save the people and be celebrated as a hero.

 

His gut instinct told Dean otherwise, but he had to keep an open mind. He shouldn’t get his judgement clouded just because he felt sympathetic towards Nightangel.

 

It was already too late when he noticed that something was wrong. A sharp pain in the back of his head made him lose his consciousness briefly before he painfully hit his head on the ground. Someone pulled him up roughly and bound his hands with handcuffs. 

 

“You again,” a voice drawled in a sing-song melody, “I thought I already burned you. Well. Second time’s the charm.”

 

A liquid was spilled over him, based on the smell, it was gasoline.  _ Fuck, fuck, fuck.  _ Dean tried to stand up, feeling dizzy and disorientated. The guy knocked him down again with the empty gasoline container. “Tsk, tsk, tsk, be a good boy and stay down.”

 

Dean tried to get a look at his attacker, but he was wearing a red devil’s mask with horns. He was tall and lanky, and his voice sounded creepy; he couldn’t place the accent.

 

The creepy guy stood over him and lit a match, “I would have loved to play with you a little, seeing how much you enjoy fire. But I’m on the clock. Guess it’s goodbye then.”

 

The man kicked him in the head and everything went black.

 

His lungs burned and he coughed when he regained consciousness again. The whole room was in flames. Dean struggled to stand up, his hands still cuffed as he made his way to the window. He coughed again, the whole room was spinning when he threw himself heavily against the window that led to the flat roof. 

 

Glass splintered and cut into his skin. For a moment he felt the heat of the flames coming closer with the additional oxygen. He fell to the roof under him in a shower of glass. He took a few deep, burning breaths of air when he heard a swooshing sound.

 

“I hope it’s not becoming a habit that we meet in burning buildings,” the voice sounded distorted, like it was changed with the help of a device. Dean rubbed his face and tried to calm his breathing, the smoke from the fire still burned his lungs. He had tears in his eyes and everything was blurry. Even after he had tried to rub them away, he had a hard time focusing. But he could see him, standing on the balustrade of the rooftop.

 

Nightangel. And _ fuck _ , the guy really did have wings.

 


	3. Third Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait for the new chapter! I'm super slow on this, because I keep getting distracted with other writing projects. Just a quick reminder that **this story doesn't have trigger warnings** and not many tags. I don't want to spoil the story for anyone so if you have problems with triggers you might not want to read this. Thank you so much mugglerock for beta reading this! For more information and news about Frankie's or my writing follow us on our joint tumblr [here](https://the-real-anyrock.tumblr.com/)!

 

_ "Man is the cruelest animal." _

_ ― Nietzsche _

  
  


He felt weightless. Like he was flying through the night. When he opened his eyes he could see that was exactly what was happening. Nightangel held him bridal style and was flying over the rooftops of New York.

 

The shock was instant and he started to squirm before a distorted voice tried to calm him down, “Don’t be afraid. I’m just getting you to the nearest hospital. You have minor smoke poisoning and a concussion.”

 

Dean tried to get a look at Nightangel’s face, but the black mask and hoodie hid it completely. The voice was changed by a device, but something irked him about it  – something he couldn’t place.

 

“My bag!” Dean coughed. If he had lost the lead, it would have all been for nothing.

 

“I've got it, detective,” Nightangel explained before he gracefully landed on the roof of the hospital. “Can you walk?”

 

The world was spinning and his knees felt like Jell-o. Nightangel chuckled quietly as Dean’s legs buckled under him and he had to pull him up so he wouldn't fall to the ground. “Guess that answers my question. I can't escort you inside, but I will call someone. Just sit down here.”

 

Dean managed to nod as Nightangel helped him sit down. “Thank you…” Breathing and speaking still hurt. ”For saving me again.”

 

Nightangel dropped Dean’s bag onto his lap. “I will find you when you feel better. I actually have a proposition for you, that you might be interested in.”

 

“Ominous,” Dean quipped before a coughing fit rewarded him for being sarcastic.

 

Nightangel chuckled lowly and carded his hand through Dean’s hair. His voice sounded uncharacteristically tender, “Get better soon, detective.”

 

And with those words, he turned around and ran over to the edge of the building, jumping off before he spread his elegant black wings and vanished into the night sky.

 

Dean slowly shook his head. He certainly didn’t want to turn into a Nightangel fangirl, but he had to admit that the guy was seriously badass. 

 

**…. :::: :::: ….**

 

“The second time, Dean!” Sam repeated for the umpteenth time. 

 

Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s not like I choose to be in buildings that someone sets fire to.”

 

“I get that. I’m just worried.” Sam sighed deeply before he sat down again on the uncomfortable plastic chair next to Dean’s hospital bed, waiting for Dean to change into the new clothes he had brought him from his apartment. When Dean pulled off his hospital gown, Sam gasped. “What’s with the handprint on your shoulder again? Does Nightangel have a special kink, marking you?”

 

Dean shrugged, the doctors had already explained it to him and that the mark would probably be gone in a few days. “I don’t even know, man. At least this time the doc said it wouldn’t last for weeks. Apparently, Nightangel has a very tight grip when he rescues people from hellholes. It’s nothing.”

 

Sam grinned smugly. “That’s the second time he rescued you from a burning building. Did you get a coupon? Two rescues and the third one’s free?”

 

“Ha-ha, Sammy. You’re hilarious.” 

 

Sam shook his head, his lion mane falling into his eyes. Man, that boy needed a haircut. “You still owe me, big time. What were you thinking leaving Dad like that? And more importantly, leaving  _ me  _ to deal with the fall out?”

 

Dean grinned smugly, thinking back on the great night he had with Cas. His thoughts must have been obvious when Sam groaned, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Please tell me you didn’t hook up with Castiel Novak.”

 

“I would be lying if I told you we didn’t have sex all night long.” Dean shrugged, enjoying Sam’s shocked face. “Best sex I’ve had in years, in fact.”

 

“So, are you seeing him again?” Sam asked, still looking scandalized. 

 

Dean certainly hoped so, but their last conversation wasn’t exactly promising. “It’s complicated.”

 

Sam shot him a skeptical look. “Really? You let Facebook advise you on your relationship status?”

 

“Huh?” Dean asked. “You know I don’t talk nerd.”

 

Sam snorted. “Right, because playing  _ Shadowrun  _ with Charlie every Saturday if you don’t binge watch old Star Trek episodes doesn’t make you a nerd at all.”

 

“Exactly! Now you get it.” Dean grinned as he pulled on his jeans. “So, is Dad still pissed at me?”

 

Sam shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe it, but he actually sounded worried. But you’re still in for a talking-to.”

 

Dean looked at the boring hospital ceiling for a moment. “You’re right, I don’t believe it. Fuck, I thought I could avoid him, at least for a few days, but I guess I have to face the music.”

 

Sam clapped him on the shoulder, thankfully the one that wasn’t injured. “Look at you being all grown up and responsible.”

 

Dean shot his brother a sardonic smile before he searched his bag, to make sure everything was still there. The ledger that he had taken was still with him and he thanked Nightangel in his mind for saving the bag of evidence alongside his hide. “Okay, we can go now. Can you drop me at the presidium?”

 

“Sure.” Sammy nodded. “So, the doctors are fine with you just leaving? You don’t have to stay overnight like the last time?”

 

“I’m fine,” Dean assured him. He wasn't about to tell him he was leaving the hospital against the doctor's advice, but it was the first good lead in the case and he didn’t want to let it go cold. 

 

“Yeah right,” Sam’s voice dripped with sarcasm, but he let the comment slide.

 

**…. :::: :::: …..**

 

After his Dad had chewed him out for being reckless, investigating a lead without a partner like a rookie detective, and also holding a never ending lecture about family responsibilities, Dean had finally managed to go home, feeling like he could just fall into his bed and sleep for days. He landed face first against his pillow, letting out a deep sigh before his whole body suddenly tensed. Someone was with him in his bedroom.

 

He turned around quickly, drawing the gun that laid under his pillow and pointing it at the intruder. Nightangel stood by his open bedroom window, his voice sounded calm, tinted with a hint of amusement, “Hello, Detective.”

 

“Where are your wings?” Dean blurted out before he could even think. Maybe the blow to his head had been harder than he thought. He slowly lowered his gun as he left the bed to walk up to the mysterious vigilante.

 

He couldn’t make out his face. The black hood obscured his eyes and he was wearing a mask.

 

Nightangel tilted his head. “I only need them for flying.”

 

That wasn’t really an answer to Dean’s question, but they had more important things to discuss. “I’ll spare you the questions about how you know where I live and if you’re working the same case as I am. I don’t believe in coincidences. You saving my hide again was not because you happened to be in the neighborhood.”

 

Nightangel nodded, his voice sounded calm and matter-of-fact as he said, “You’re right. I was trailing a man named Alastair. I think he is working for one of the local crime syndicates, covering up their mistakes, doing their dirty work. I believe the recent deaths are related to a new drug that has horrible side effects.”

 

Dean raised his eyebrow, he couldn’t believe that Nightangel was giving him so much information. It could mean a huge breakthrough in his case. “How much do you know?”

 

Nightangel shook his head. “Not much. I was supposed to meet Frank Devereaux two days ago. He said he had important information for me. He was killed before I could talk to him and I’d like to know why.”

 

Dean chewed on his lower lip, wondering if he should tell Nightangel what he knew. The guy had saved his life two times now, but he was still a vigilante.

 

Nightangel stepped in front of him, laying a gloved hand on Dean’s arm. “Detective, I know you're not supposed to work with me, or even talk to me for that matter, but I need to know what Frank wanted to tell me. I could help you on this case. With our combined resources, we could solve this much faster and hopefully save more innocent lives.”

 

Even though it sounded like the best option, Dean was still reluctant. If it came out that a detective was working with a vigilante, he would lose his job.

 

Nightangel seemed to read his mind when he added, “I know it is a big risk for you. Look, I will go after Frank’s killer with or without your help. But I would prefer if we could join forces. I have a feeling that this is something big.” 

 

Dean sighed deeply. “Okay, okay. Just tell me what you know and I’ll tell you what I found. Just… please don’t make me regret this.”

 

Nightangel nodded tersely. “You won’t, I promise. Thank you, Detective.”

 

“Call me, Dean.” The guy had saved his life twice now, he had earned the first name basis.

 

“Dean,” Nightangel repeated slowly and it sounded strange. Dean couldn’t quite put his finger on why though. 

 

Dean made a gesture for Nightangel to follow him into the kitchen, where he started to make some coffee. He wasn’t awake enough for this. “Do you want coffee?”

 

“No, thank you,” the mysterious vigilante replied, leaning casually against the doorframe.

 

Dean chuckled. “Kind of absurd to have a superhero in my kitchen. Do you have a lair and is your secret identity a broody millionaire?”

 

“I’m not Batman,” Nightangel replied dryly.

 

It was kind of funny that the first superhero Dean could think of to compare Nightangel with was a fictional one, instead of one the world actually knew. Dean poured sugar and milk in his coffee and grinned. “So you’re okay with the papers calling you, ‘Nightangel’?”

 

The other man shrugged. “I don’t care what they call me. I’m not doing this for fame and glory.”

 

“So, you’re more like Spiderman? With great power comes great responsibility?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then what?” Dean chuckled.

 

Nightangel looked at the floor. “I’m afraid my reasons are rather selfish. I’m trying to find out what made me like this.”

 

Well, that was an interesting fact to know. Nightangel was just one big, mysterious puzzle, one he would really love to solve. Dean sat down at his kitchen counter, nodding to the free chair beside him as Nightangel only reluctantly followed the invitation. It made Dean grin again. “I don’t bite.”

 

“You’re very curious.” It was just a statement, but it sounded like an accusation.

 

”Part of a detective’s skill set.” 

 

Nightangel sat down very carefully next to Dean and he couldn’t help the way his smile grew wider. The superhero folded his hands on the table and looked down at them. “I think your case and my investigations are overlapping.”

 

“Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.“ Dean grabbed his backpack and pulled out the ledger and newspaper article about the fire and Nightangel with Frank’s note on it, putting it in front of the vigilante. “Care to explain why Frank thought you’re connected to the fires?”

 

Nightangel nodded and grabbed the newspaper article, running his fingers over the photo. “I think what he meant was that my case is connected to those fires. Since I trailed Alistair to them, I bet he was burning those buildings down to cover up something. The first building I saved you from… was there something that connected it to the other murder case you’re working on?”

 

“You know about the murder case?” Dean asked, feeling surprised, even though he probably shouldn't have been.

 

“I read the newspapers,” Nightangel stated dryly.

 

“Right, um… me being in that first building was a complete coincidence. I was covering for a friend who was called to a domestic, family with kids. It’s not even my department, but my buddy’s wife just started having contractions, so I went with his partner. It’s an apartment complex, we arrived a few minutes before all hell broke loose. I know it was arson, but until now, I haven’t seen a connection between this case and the murder of our Jane Doe.”

 

“Maybe she lived in that building?” Nightangel suggested, “if Frank was the second victim killed in the same way as your Jane Doe, it makes sense that both arson cases might be connected, especially since I know they were committed by the same guy.”

 

“It’s worth checking out.” Dean nodded before he pushed the ledger over to Nightangel. “I also found this. ‘Leviathan Project’, it has a bunch of numbers and dates in it I can’t make any sense of.” Dean had kept a close eye on the vigilante, but without seeing his face, it was hard to tell if he had any reaction to the project name. “Do you have an idea what this could be? You said it might be about a new drug?”

 

The other man thumbed through the pages before he slowly shook his head. “I don’t know how this is related to the drug, but I can tell you what the numbers are. They are container shipping track numbers and dates of arrival.”

 

“Are you sure?” Dean asked in surprise, because if that was true, it could mean a tremendous breakthrough in the case.

 

“Yes.” Nightangel’s voice sounded even lower as he pointed at one entry, letting his finger slide over the numbers. “Look, those are dates. It looks like two major shipments arrived in the last two days. And here’s a shipping address to one of the warehouses on the docks. We should check it out.”

 

Dean sighed deeply and leaned back. “I need a warrant to do that. Unlike you, I’m not a vigilante.”

 

“How about this? I could go in there and shout for help. Then you are obligated to go in there, to check it out and maybe try to arrest me for breaking and entering,” Nightangel offered thoughtfully.

 

Dean got up and pulled on his jacket. “I like the way you think.”

 

“I’m happy to serve,” Nightangel responded dryly.

 

**…. :::: :::: …..**

 

They split up. Dean took his car down to the docks and thought about a believable excuse of why he was going there in the middle of the night. In the end, he bought a fresh coffee and bagels with his credit card and decided to take a walk on the pier to clear his head.

 

It was always good to have a believable backstory when doing something potentially illegal. 

 

Involuntarily, his thoughts went to Cas and the night they had spent together. He had tried not to, but he just couldn’t stop himself. He almost felt like a freaking teenager with a crush. 

 

He wondered if he should text him. Was it too early? Cas had given him his number reluctantly and he didn’t want him to regret that decision. He didn’t want to appear too eager.  On the other hand, he really wanted to see him again and that wouldn’t happen until he made it happen.

 

Dean took a sip from his coffee and wandered in the direction of the docks, staring at his phone, his finger hovering over an empty new text message to Cas. What could he write so he would sound as casual as possible, while at the same time being cool and hot enough that Cas would want to see him again?

 

_ Hi _

 

Nope. Maybe...

 

_ Hey _

 

Yes, that sounded way more laid back and casual. So what now? Dean squinted his eyes at the phone, trying to come up with something. Why was it so difficult?

 

_ Hey, What’s up? _

 

No! Delete, delete. That was stupid.

 

_ Hey, how you doin? _

 

Fuck no, he wasn’t Joey Tribbiani. Dean quickly hit the delete button.

 

_ Hey, wanna have sex again? _

 

What the fuck, Dean! Bring your A-game on this. Delete. 

 

_ Hey, let me know if your apartment needs another check for criminals. _

 

Dean hummed and read over it. That was good, right? Reminding Cas of the fun they had that night. Witty and not too stupid. He probably wouldn’t come up with anything better, so he shrugged and hit send. 

 

Dean pocketed his phone, wondering how long it would take for Cas to reply. Then he remembered he wouldn’t hear his phone because it was muted. He pulled it out again to put it on vibrate. Cas hadn’t texted back yet.

 

_ Of course not. I mean, how long ago did I send that message? One minute?  _

 

He pocketed the phone again, leaning against a handrail to look over the river. He knew there were cameras on the dock. He needed to look like he wasn’t on to something, so when the investigation would go further, it would look like a total coincidence that he was here. He was just here to clear his head.

 

His phone vibrated and he nearly dropped it when he quickly pulled it out of his pocket again, his heart racing a million beats per second. It wasn’t a message from Cas. It was a reminder to play Angry Birds again. Fuck it.

 

He pushed the phone back into his pocket, trying to calm down. Maybe Cas wasn’t one of those people whose phone was attached to his hand. Or maybe Cas was taking a shower.

 

Dean smiled (most certainly dumbly) when he imagined Cas in his shower, how the water would flow down his perfect body, his insane hipbones and his beautiful tattoos. Man, he needed to see that guy again.

 

It had been a long time since he had felt like this. Not since Lisa, and Dean sincerely hoped it would just be a very short burning crush on Cas. Because the lawyer had made himself pretty clear that he wasn’t interested in more than casual sex.

 

His phone vibrated in his pocket when he continued his trail down the docks, getting closer to the warehouse. He needed to stop getting distracted by thoughts about Cas, but he couldn’t stop himself from checking his phone again. A notification for an app update, no message from Cas. 

 

Dean sighed deeply and muted his phone again. This really wasn’t the time, he was nearly there. It didn’t stop him from quickly checking his phone again, because Cas could have written back in the last couple of seconds.

 

Nada. Damn it, he  _ was  _ acting like a schoolgirl. 

 

He walked a bit slower when the warehouse was in sight. It didn’t look like much from the outside. Just one in a chain of maybe thirty buildings along the docks, that all looked the same. Dark red metal walls, huge doors for shipping containers. Security cameras aiming at the front door. 

 

Dean glanced up at the roof and flinched visibly when Nightangel landed on it with huge, shadowy wings. He looked so badass and his inner twelve year old geek had a momentary break down. 

 

Dean nearly smirked over the ingenious plan Nightangel had come up with, so Dean wouldn’t get in trouble. There was his reason to check out the building. He needed to stop the vigilante from breaking and entering on private property. 

 

He watched Nightangel climb through the window before Dean quickly walked to the door. The door was locked, of course, but Dean always carried a lockpick kit on the job. After the satisfying click of the lock being opened, Dean carefully pushed open the door and drew his weapon from his holster. The other hand went to his inner pocket to pull out his flashlight. 

 

It was dark in the warehouse and the flashlight only illuminated a small part of it. The huge room was full of massive containers and it was eerily quiet. So quiet, he could hear his own heartbeat and quiet steps on the concrete floor. He couldn’t hear Nightangel.

 

He wandered through the tight passages in between the high containers, trying to listen out for anything. Where was Nightangel? The hair on his arms started to rise. Something felt off.

 

And then he suddenly knew what it was. Cadaverine and putrescine. Dean gagged and quickly held his hand in front of his nose with the sudden assault on his sense of smell. Someone died in here.

 

“Fuck,” he muttered and put his gun away in favor of covering his nose as he tried to find the dead body with his flashlight.

 

“Detective,” Nightangel suddenly said from close behind him, nearly giving Dean a heart attack.

 

“Damn it, don’t do that!” Dean complained as he tried to catch his breath, which was a bad idea because the stench was overwhelming. He choked again, hoping he wouldn’t vomit on Nightangel’s shiny, black combat boots.

 

“You need to see this,” Nightangel replied, seemingly unapologetic for scaring the hell out of Dean, as he suddenly grabbed him bridal style. Before he could protest, Nightangel landed them on one of the containers. 

 

He let Dean down immediately and pointed to another container. Dean let his flashlight trace it, noticing that it was open from above. When the light hit the contents, he gasped and it felt like his heart stopped beating for a moment.

 

“Oh my… fuck,” Dean mumbled breathlessly as he found the source of the stench. It wasn’t just one body. It looked like thirty. They were all, more or less, lying on top of each other in different states of mutilation and decay. It looked like he had just found a mass grave.

 

“I have to call this in. You should go,” Dean murmured as Nightangel stepped next to him and nodded.

 

“I’ll stay with you until the police arrive.”

 

Dean wanted to protest, but secretly he was glad he didn’t need to wait for them alone. There wasn’t much Dean was afraid of, or that creeped him out, but this situation? This was different.

 

“How do you think they died?” Dean asked quietly as he fumbled for his phone.

 

Nightangel shook his head. “It’s hard to say, but please inform me as soon as your people finish the autopsies. Maybe this way we’ll get a clearer picture of what is going on.”

 

Dean nodded mutely as he dialed the number of his station. When the officer in charge answered, Dean finally snapped out of his shock and went right into police mode.

 

“We need all units at the docks, the coroner and forensics. I found a mass grave.”

 

**…. :::: :::: …..**

 

The moment Dean let himself fall into his bed after being up for another five hours, his phone started to ring. It was the soothing melody of the Battlestar Galactica opening song, Charlie’s ringtone. His protesting groan was muffled by his sheets as he tried to move his tired body like a seal in the direction of the nightstand, fishing blindly for his phone.

 

“Red?”

 

“Dean,” she greeted back, sounding as tired as he did.

 

“What did you find?” he asked, pushing himself up from the mattress, trying to concentrate on getting more awake.

 

“Well, first of all, Frank Devereaux didn’t have any traces of this weird chemical inside of him, but the first preliminary test on the new fifty-five victims all show they had the substance in their bloodstream.”

 

“Is that what killed them?”

 

“No, they… they killed each other, or themselves. They all died an extremely violent death.” Charlie sighed deeply, she sounded even more tired now. “What is this shit? It almost seems like they were lab rats for a failed experiment.”

 

“I don’t know yet, Red. But we're trying to find out what happened. We’re tracking down the owner of those shipping containers as we speak, hopefully tomorrow we’ll know more. You should sleep. You sound exhausted.”

 

“Yeah, alright. Talk to you tomorrow. Night, Dean.”

 

“Night, Charlie.” Dean ended the call and noticed a new text message. 

 

It was from Cas. Suddenly his heart beat faster and he felt way more awake as he quickly opened it before he got too nervous.

 

_ Cas: Hello Dean, do you want to come over? I had a horrible night so I could use a distraction. _

 

The text message was from two hours ago. It was late, but Dean still texted back quickly.

 

_ Dean: Just got home from work. If you still want me to come over I could be there in twenty minutes. _

 

Sleep was overrated if he could spend a few hours with Cas. The response came immediately.

 

_ Cas: Come over. _

 

Dean took a quick shower and changed into fresh clothes before he quickly left his apartment and got a cab. He was nervous to see Cas again. Nervous and tired, which was a weird combination.

 

His heart beat a million times per minute when he finally stood in front of Cas’s front door. He was about to knock when the door opened and Cas stood there with a soft smile playing around his lips. His voice sounded soothing and calm as he greeted him, “Hello, Dean.”

 

“Hi, Cas,” Dean replied shyly. Why did this man have such a profound effect on him? Dean never felt shy around his hookups. 

 

Cas let Dean into his office, where he was greeted by a beautiful woman with long red hair. “Oh, you must be Dean Winchester.”

 

Before Dean could question why he felt jealous for a moment, Cas interrupted the woman, “Not now, Anna. Don't you have to be in court in the morning? You should go home and sleep.”

 

Anna. Of course, the sister. The woman grabbed her briefcase and patted Dean’s shoulder with a smug grin on her way out. “Have fun, brother.”

 

When she closed the door after her, Dean gave Cas a raised eyebrow. “Now I feel like a whore.”

 

Cas chuckled lowly and pulled him by his jacket sleeve through the door to his living room. As soon as they were in Cas’s apartment, he crowded Dean against the door and pulled him into knee weakening kiss. Fuck, Cas had ruined him for other kisses forever.

 

“You look tired, detective,” he stated between kisses.

 

“I've been awake for... I don't even know how long,” he mumbled back before Cas pulled him into his bedroom.

 

“And you came here instead of sleeping?” Cas asked, sounding surprised as he stripped Dean’s jacket and unbuttoned his shirt.

 

Dean nodded, leaning his forehead against Cas’s as he fumbled open his tie and shirt. “I really needed you– _ this  _ after my day… just like you.”

 

Dean hoped he didn’t sound too clingy with the accidental slip up. Cas had made it pretty clear that he wasn’t interested in any romantic attachments.

 

The lawyer gave him a look that was hard to decipher before he kissed him again, more gentle this time, but still deep and determined. His hands fell to Dean’s jeans, unbuttoning them before he walked him over to the bed.

 

By the time he had reached the bed frame, they both had lost their shoes and socks, and Cas helped him pull down his jeans and boxers, kissing down his stomach and thighs.

 

Fuck, he had missed this man. The way his soft lips felt over his hot skin, like he was worshipping every inch, losing himself to the pleasure of giving instead of receiving. Cas braced his palm on Dean’s chest and pushed him down on the bed before he undressed and slid onto Dean's lap, pressing his beautiful ass against Dean’s hard cock. 

 

Dean was surprised. Cas had been so dominant before, but now it seemed like–

 

“Do you want to switch?” Dean asked, letting his hands roam over Cas’s chest.

 

Cas nodded with a shy smile. “Is that okay?”

 

The way Cas’s behavior towards him seemed to shift and change all the time was really a mindfuck, but even though it confused the hell out of Dean – he also liked that Cas wasn’t like everybody else. He was different. And he liked both sides of the lawyer, the one that seemed to be a strong top, but also the one that could be an almost shy bottom.

 

“Sure.” Dean gave Cas a reassuring smile as he braced his weight on his elbow before he pulled Cas down into a soft kiss. “Whatever you need.”

 

"I had a really shitty night," the lawyer mumbled against Dean's lips. "And sometimes I just need some comfort."

 

Dean softly carded his fingers through Cas's hair when he leaned back to look at Cas, getting lost in his beautiful, sapphire-blue eyes, before he rolled them over, settling between Cas's legs as he kissed him deeply.. He had no problem with showing Cas that he could take care of him, if he needed it. 

 

Cas slid his palm over Dean’s arm before he rubbed over the handprint on Dean’s shoulder and Dean groaned in a mixture of lust and slight pain. The burned skin still hurt. The lawyer stopped touching him before he looked at the handprint and whispered, “Fuck.”

 

Dean gave him a quick, reassuring smile. “Pretty badass, huh? A souvenir from yet again being rescued by Nightangel.”

 

“He hurt you,” Cas stated, sounding shocked and surprisingly angry.

 

Dean rubbed over the handprint and shrugged. “It’s okay. He probably didn’t mean to. He saved my life.”

 

Cas carefully trailed kisses over the handprint, murmuring, “I’m sorry you got hurt.”

 

“I have a dangerous job and I get hurt sometimes. This is nothing.” He drew him into a deep and gentle kiss, hoping Cas would forget about it. He wanted to comfort him, not add to his distress. 

 

Thankfully, Cas seemed to be back on track after a few more moments of trading soft kisses and touching each other. “Lube and condoms are in the top drawer,” Cas murmured, kissing along Dean’s throat and behind his ear.

 

It wasn’t easy to lean away from Cas’s lips, but he couldn’t wait to be inside of this man, who had been on his mind since the night they met. He would be lying if he said he didn't hope that Cas would change his mind about the no dating policy.

 

This felt like something special. Something good. Something Dean hadn’t felt in a long fucking time.

 

He opened the purple bottle of lube as soon as he placed the condom within reach, next to him on the mattress. He spread a good amount on his fingers, trying to warm it up between his digits as he started to kiss Cas again. 

 

He enjoyed the way the man gasped against his lips when he circled and massaged his hole, carefully slipping a finger inside. He was tight, like he wasn’t used to it. Dean cupped Cas’s cheek with his free hand and gently rubbed his thumb over his face. “When was the last time you did this?” he asked quietly, nudging his nose over Cas’s cheek before he kissed his stubble.

 

Cas sounded breathless, voice rough, looking at Dean with glazed over eyes, in which Dean drowned in. “Forever ago.”

 

Dean couldn’t help but smile softly at that, carding his fingers lovingly through Cas’s hair. “Does that make me special?”

 

Cas’s breathing hitched when Dean tugged a little bit at his hair. He nodded, kissing along his throat as he breathed out, “Yeah, it does.”

 

Dean felt his heart flutter with Cas’s words and he knew he was doomed. He was falling hard for Cas. The last time this had happened to him was with Lisa, and it didn’t end well. With Cas it wouldn’t go anywhere because the man didn’t want anything other than casual sex. But damn it, Dean really wanted to change Cas’s mind about that. He was ready to take the next step. He wanted to take the risk again, because he felt Cas was worth it.

 

He didn’t just think that because he presently had two fingers in Cas, working him open and enjoying the filthy and breathy moans falling from the lawyer’s sinful lips.

 

Cas rocked his hips against him, fucking himself on Dean’s fingers when he drew him into another open mouthed kiss. He could feel the need and underlying desperation in the way Cas kissed him, even before he breathed out the words, “Please, Dean. I need you.”

 

“Yeah,” Dean breathed out, “C’mere, baby.” The pet name was an accidental slip up, but Cas didn’t seem to mind as Dean sat up and pulled him closer to his body, looking for the damn condom.

 

Cas writhed over him, looking desperate. “Come on, Dean.”

 

“Fuck, yeah, yeah. I just…” He looked around the bed and held up the blanket.  _ Where the fuck did it go?  _ “I can’t find the condom. I put it right beside the lube.”

 

Cas made a whining noise, but helped him look as he suddenly murmured, “We should both get tested so we won't need one in the future.”

 

Dean froze and looked at him. “Does that mean you want us to be exclusive?”

 

Cas gave him a shy look before he shrugged. "I don't know, if you're okay with it? I’m not interested in having sex with anyone else and you said you wanted to continue this – " He gestured between the both of them. "Right?"

 

Dean couldn’t believe his luck as he pulled Cas forward and onto his lap, sharing a quick but passionate kiss. “Fuck, of course I want to. You’re awesome.”

 

Cas looked away for a moment and Dean noticed he was blushing. It was so damn cute, Dean felt himself falling even more for the guy. Damn, maybe he really was lucky this time? 

 

When his gaze drifted over the blanket, he suddenly noticed the black plastic from the condom wrapper. He snatched it triumphantly and grinned at Cas. “Found it.”

 

Cas chuckled and pulled him into another a kiss. A softer one before he wrapped his arms around him and slid closer. “Please, make me feel you,” he whispered against Dean’s lips.

 

Cas didn’t need to tell him twice. Dean quickly opened the wrapper and rolled on the condom, when Cas made space for his hand, groaning as he adjusted his cock. He spread more lube on it, gasping from the incredible way Cas was sucking a mark at his throat. 

 

He pulled the lawyer into another deep kiss with his free hand as he maneuvered him into the right position and slowly pushed into him. He was incredibly tight and hot. Dean hoped he could pull himself together and not come too fast. He wanted to take his time.

 

Cas was making those breathy, quiet moans that would haunt Dean's dreams probably for ages to come, in an entirely incredible way. The lawyer pressed his forehead against Dean’s as he started to rock into him. They held each other in a tight embrace and it felt a lot more intimate than anything Dean had ever done with someone in his life. It should have been scary, but it just felt right – It felt like being where he belonged.

 

Cas whispered Dean’s name brokenly against his lips as they traded soft and gentle kisses. This was more than sex. They weren’t driven by lust, they were seeking comfort and closeness in each other. Dean tried not to be hopeful that this meant Cas would be open to taking their relationship to a new level, that it could be more than just sex. He wanted to get to know him. He wanted to spend time with Cas. 

 

He buried his fingers in his messy, soft hair and got lost in Cas’s beautiful blue eyes as he picked up the pace of his thrusts. “You feel so good, baby,” he whispered against Cas’s parted lips before he pulled him into another deep kiss. He knew he would never get enough of kissing him, his heart always stumbled when he felt Cas’s tongue sliding against his own.

 

Cas was riding him now, rocking together in perfect harmony as Dean felt himself on the verge of coming. Luckily for him, Cas was right there with him, moaning deeply against Dean’s lips before he gasped out his name. Dean could feel him coming untouched between them, clenching around his cock and shoving Dean right over the edge with him.

 

They kissed through their orgasms. They didn’t stop kissing even when they both tried to catch their breath and laid down next to each other in a tight embrace.

 

It was probably due to his post orgasm bliss that Dean suddenly murmured, “I wish we could just stay here in your bedroom indefinitely and forget about the world outside.”

 

He immediately cursed himself for blurting out something romantic to the lawyer, but when he noticed the man’s soft smile, the way the corner of his eyes crinkled in amusement, it was hard to regret saying it.

 

“It’s a nice thought,” Cas mumbled before he drew him in for another soft kiss. 

 

It was incredible feeling Cas’s fingertips gently tracing his still overheated and sated skin, feeling his soft, pliant lips against his own. He never wanted this moment to end and it made him brave enough to ask, “Cas? I know you said that you don’t date and I totally respect that, man. Seriously, I know where you’re coming from. But... I don’t know. Is it just me, am I imagining things here? Because this between us feels seriously good.”

 

Cas pulled away from him with a sigh and Dean’s heart clenched painfully. He hoped he didn’t ruin everything. The fact that he continued to rub his thumb over the back of Dean's hand instead of throwing him out, well... hopefully that meant there was still hope.

 

The lawyer took in a deep breath before he looked at Dean again. His eyes were full of sadness.  _ Fuck. _ “You’re not imagining things, Dean. I feel the same way. You've constantly been on my mind since the night we met.”

 

Dean blinked at Cas, trying to process what the man had just said. He gave him an insecure, questioning smile. “But that’s a good thing, isn’t it? We’re both on the same page.”

 

Cas shook his head slightly and Dean’s heart fell. “There is something I should tell you. I–I had a fiancee once. He was killed by a criminal I tried to get behind bars.”

 

“Fuck.” Dean shook his head before he pulled Cas closer. “I’m so sorry, Cas.”

 

Cas nudged his nose against Dean’s chest. “He was a soldier. Like me. We knew each other from our time in the navy. He survived fucking Afghanistan and Iraq just to get killed at home by a third-rate mafia boss.”

 

For a moment, Dean didn’t know what to say. He kissed the top of Cas’s head before he asked quietly, “When was that?”

 

Cas looked up again with a deep sigh before he answered, “Eight years ago. I moved on from him, but... I don’t date because I never wanted to live through something like that again. Someone I love dying because of my work. I still have a fuck ton of enemies.”

 

Dean nodded slowly. Damn, he understood Cas. He really did. But it still broke his heart. They both were quiet for a while, just looking at each other. Dean was trying to hold onto Cas just as he was clinging to Dean. He leaned over and kissed the corner of Cas’s mouth, whispering, “My job is the reason I never had a successful relationship. Not because of the criminals and danger, although that certainly doesn't help, but also because of my crazy work hours. I could never be there, you know? The job always came first.”

 

Cas chuckled mirthlessly before he slid closer to Dean’s. “We’re both in no position to let this go any further.”

 

Dean drew him into another deep and gentle kiss that made his heart beat faster. He knew what he needed to do. He couldn’t let this go on because it had the potential to really break him. He was already in way too deep.

 

He leaned back with a deep sigh, looking up at Cas. “I know we aren’t, but I still want to. I want to get to know you, spend more time with you, just… fuck, I think you’re worth taking the risk.”

 

Cas was about to say something, but Dean pressed his finger against his lips to stop him. “I know this isn’t what you want and I respect that. So if you tell me there’s no chance we could become more, I think we shouldn’t meet up again.”

 

He drew back his finger, taking in Cas’s sad and serious expression. “Are you giving me an ultimatum?”

 

Dean shook his head, looking away. “I just want to protect myself, man. This between us has the potential to really hurt me and I’d rather rip the bandaid off quickly.”

 

He could see Cas’s eyes soften at that before he slid his fingers into Dean’s hair. “I don’t want to give this up either,” he whispered before he pulled him in for another gentle kiss.

 

“But?” Dean asked carefully.

 

Cas shook his head. “No but’s, just…” The lawyer took in a deep breath before he continued, “We need to keep this under wraps. No dates in public, no family dinners and so on. If you agree to keep this between us quiet, I… I would like to continue whatever this is.”

 

“You want me to be your dirty little secret?” Dean asked, but he already felt a smile creeping up on his lips.

 

Cas still looked serious. “Those are my terms.”

 

It sounded like a business deal, but it didn’t matter. Cas wanted this and Dean didn’t have a problem with the secrecy. He smiled at Cas and leaned forward for another soft kiss. “I accept your terms.”

 


End file.
